


With a Lullaby

by twyly56



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Jack Kline, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bonding, Comforting Lucifer (Supernatural), Confusion, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dreamwalking, Family Bonding, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Flying, Good Parent Lucifer (Supernatural), Hair Brushing, Hair Washing, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jack Has Feelings, Jack Kline Feels, Jack Kline Gets a Hug, Jack Kline Needs A Hug, Jack being Jack, Lucifer (Supernatural) Has Feelings, Lucifer Feels, Mental Link, Non-Sexual Age Play, Overprotective Castiel, Parent Lucifer (Supernatural), Psychic Bond, Self-Esteem Issues, Sleepy Cuddles, Sweet Kelly Kline, Tickle Fights, Tickling, Wing Grooming, daddy Lucifer, playful, pyrokinesis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-05-10 02:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twyly56/pseuds/twyly56
Summary: After hearing Crowley threaten to kill his son, Lucifer breaks free and goes searching for Kelly. He protects her, fighting off anyone who tries to harm her or the baby. When Jack finally is born, amidst much conflict, Lucifer holds Kelly in his arms as she takes her last breath. Lucifer does his best to give Jack the childhood he never had, even if his baby boy looks like a young teen physically.And naturally, the Winchesters have to cause trouble.





	1. Threats

"That chain around your neck?" Crowley tsked, waving his hand dismissively. "That was nothing. A stylish accessory. This vessel-" He gestured at Lucifer's body. "-that's your true prison. It's been warded with runes and spell work from the Cage, carved into every molecule. In there, I. Own. You." Crowley smirked as Lucifer let out a hiss of pain. "But, I'm just getting started. So I'm gonna put you back in your hole, and then, I'm going to find your spawn, and I'm going to rip him apart while you watch."

Lucifer felt a surge of fear but not for himself. His son. His innocent son. Please not his son. 

"And then-" Crowley stood up from the throne and walked leisurely over to the panting fallen angel.

Lucifer looked up at him, the vessel's grey blue eyes wide and glassy with pain. The demon grinned coldly. 

"...I'm still _just_ getting started." A fist collided with the side of his head, and Lucifer hit the floor. The sound of his skull smacking against the stone reverberated around the room. 

 

A loud bang startled Lucifer out of his thoughts, and he looked up. The aforementioned chain around his neck clinked loudly as his head moved. Crowley strode into the room liked he owned it. 

"Before long, of course, I will have to get rid of you. But I will miss our little chats," the demon said. Lucifer tilted his head, a mocking smile curling his lips. 

"Hmm. You mean the ones where you prattle on about your imagined power, and I pretend to care?" The fallen angel tapped his fingers together in his lap. "Those chats?" 

"How is Lucifer Junior? Dead yet?" Crowley asked. A coil of ice cold anger burned in his gut. Lucifer suppressed it almost violently and lifted his chained hands to his ear, pretending to listen to a silent voice. 

"Hmm, no. Still alive and kicking. He's strong. Kid's a bruiser. Sort of proud." 

"Well, before you book a Daddy and Me class, I must assure you that there is no heir to your throne. The Winchesters wouldn't mess up a second time." Lucifer tilted his head to the side. 

"About that? It seems to be sort of their thing. I mean, they thought that they stuffed me back in the Cage, again." He shrugged, rattling the chains. 

"And yet, here to my cunning, here you sit. A virtual slave to me." Lucifer scratched his chin idly, and Crowley mimicked the motion. "Bound to my will. I mean the hubris. You and your pseudo son. I mean, it's delusional!" Lucifer turned his head to the side and cleared his throat. The demon unconsciously did the same. "Despite your epic collapse, you persist in the fantasy that you could best me." Lucifer made a funny face, and Crowley made it as well. "Your bluster is no match for my masterful strategies." The angel stuck out his tongue, and Crowley did, too. "And in the end, you will have to concede that I am..." 

He trailed off when he finally noticed that he was flapping his arms like a chicken, the fallen angel copying him. 

"What's going on?" Lucifer giggled and pushed himself into a standing position. 

"Master strategist," he mocked, shrugging back his shoulders and watching the demon do the same. "More like Kermit the Frog." Lucifer chuckled, hopping up and down on one foot. Crowley looked around himself, startled and unable to stop his body from copying the motion. Lucifer stopped and just stood in place, flicking his index finger up and down, watching gleefully as the demon hopped on one leg. 

"My little Muppet," Lucifer cooed. "Crowley, what will I do without you?" 

The demon looked at him, fear now evident in his face, the smug expression firmly wiped off. Lucifer grew bored of manipulating his body after a few more moments, and he halted his hand. Crowley stopped, his feet frozen in place. The fallen angel reached up and undid his chains, tossing them to the side. He arched his back like a cat, arms reaching for the sky, and he let out a content sigh. 

"Ah. Dad, that feels good!" Lucifer sank back into the chair. He winced as his unused muscles screamed in protest. "Ooh, muscle cramps. Do you know a good Pilates class?" The demon chuckled nervously.

"So, to be clear." Lucifer looked up, false curiosity plastered on his face. "I accept that you are now in charge. I like this arrangement better. You're more the big picture guy-" Lucifer felt a mild amount of amusement, watching him ramble and squirm. "-I'm the day to day guy. So..." 

Crowley turned on his heel and sprinted for the door. Lucifer flung out his hand. The demon slammed into the door with such force that the door tore from its hinges and crashed to the floor. Crowley scrambled to his feet only to be thrown into the next door, knocking it over as well. Lucifer stepped through the doorway, and the two lower level demons guarding the room instantly cowered to the side. Lucifer grinned, wide and wicked. 

"Eight ball, corner pocket." He swept his hand to the side, and Crowley screamed, flying into the archway on the other side of the room. The demon landed on the ground again with a groan. Lucifer smirked, shooting a glance to the tawny haired demon on his right. The little demon flinched away from him, whimpering in fear. 

"Well, I could do this _all day_ , but I should probably get to the point. After all, I have an appointment after this." Lucifer summoned his blade to him and lifted the demon off the ground with a flick of his fingers. He set him on his feet and pinned him in place with a little Grace, digging the tip of his blade into the soft flesh of the underside of his chin. Crowley squeaked breathlessly. Six large shadows appeared on the wall behind Lucifer, and his eyes flashed crimson.

"You had to know this was inevitable." Lucifer leaned forward, icy breath causing small crystals of frost to appear on the demon's scruff. "You know, I would have let you live. Humiliated you, sure. Tortured you, definitely. But killed you? No. But... you just had to threaten my son, didn't you?" He tutted disapprovingly. "You really should know better than that, buddy." 

Lucifer punched Crowley in the jaw, sending him to the floor, skidding back a few feet. His wings puffed up behind him, invisible to the demons, vibrating with his fury. The fallen angel lunged forward, sinking the three pointed blade deep into Crowley's chest with a growl. Lucifer jerked it out of the demon's chest when he stopped seeing red. He stood up and looked over at Demon Underling Number One. 

"Hey! You!" The little demon pointed at itself, cocking his head. "Yeah. Okay, I'm gonna skedaddle, capisce? Clean this mess up." 

The demon nodded frantically. Lucifer smiled, some of the sharpness dissipating from his face. 

"Buh-bye!" He snapped his fingers, and the space where he had been standing was suddenly empty. 


	2. Kelly Kline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enochian is in "bold."

It wasn't hard for Lucifer to find Kelly. It really wasn't. His little child called out to him, oh so bright against the darkness that surrounded him. He was cradled safe and sound within the mother's gentle soul, growing inside her belly. No one could hide his son from him if they tried. He was a part of Lucifer, in essence. The father-son connection was stronger than anything else in this world or the next. 

When he appeared in Kelly's bedroom, he immediately felt the Nephilim react, the soul-grace reaching out to him, glowing with happiness. Kelly looked up at him from her position on the bed, her hazel eyes wide with surprise. He felt a bit astonished to see that she wasn't afraid. It was probably his child's influence; he knew that Lucifer wasn't a threat. Kelly let out a soft moan as the baby kicked inside her, rubbing at her swollen stomach. 

Lucifer stepped forward and placed a hand on her belly. The glowing intensified, leaving an almost substantial sound of soft laughter in his ears. His face split into a soft grin, and he gently rubbed circles into the taut, shirt covered flesh. The baby hummed happily. His icy Grace reached forward and twined around his son, wrapping him in an intangible embrace. Kelly gasped, her eyes flaring golden with the boy's power. 

"Who are you?" she asked. Lucifer smiled softly. 

"I am Lucifer," he replied. 

"This is your child," Kelly said. 

"Yes, he is." 

"It's a boy?" she said, a smile in her voice. Lucifer grinned back. 

"Yes. He loves you." 

"He loves you, too," Kelly observed. 

"I wasn't sure he was going to," Lucifer admitted. "I'm not a very good person." 

"But he knows that you love him with all your heart," Kelly said. "He loves you, that secret part of you that you never let anyone see." Lucifer blushed, much to his surprise. 

"I apologize for deceiving you," he said. 

"I forgive you," Kelly responded with a flash of gold in her eyes. 

"Will you allow me to protect you, at least for the duration of the pregnancy?" Lucifer asked. 

"Of course you can. It's your baby just as much as mine. You should be allowed to be part of this. At least, that's my opinion." Lucifer pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and smiled at her. 

"Thank you, Kelly." And he meant it. 

 

Lucifer took it upon himself, seeing as how he had inadvertently killed her husband and the fact that she was carrying his child, to make sure that she was as comfortable as possible and didn't need to stress herself. He washed the clothes, cleaned and mopped the house, raked the backyard, cut the grass, and - most importantly in his opinion - cooked her food. Before he had been shoved back in the Cage for a second time, he had become somewhat addicted to cooking shows like "Hell's Kitchen" and "Good Eats." 

Considering the fact that he didn't actually need to eat, he was pleased that he had someone to actually cook for. And when his son was born, he would cook for him as well. Lucifer bumped the fridge door closed with his foot as he carried a plate of dopiaza out of the kitchen. Kelly looked up from her book, sleepily curled up on the overstuffed armchair. 

"What's that?" she asked. 

"You said you were craving onions, so I made you dopiaza. It's an onion based Middle Eastern dish, sort of like a curry." 

"It's smells great!" Kelly said. Lucifer handed her the plate and took the book from her, placing it on the table beside her. 

"How is it?" 

"'s good! I like it," she said, swallowing a mouthful of the spicy dish. 

"I'm glad." Lucifer sat down on the couch across from her. He felt the baby's soul-grace tap against his. He smiled, tapping it gently back. The baby 'giggled' in his mind, pushing back a bit harder. Lucifer enveloped his unborn son in an icy hug with his Grace, and the baby glowed happily, radiating love and adoration. It warmed his heart like nothing else. 

" **Such a sweet baby boy,** " he cooed softly. " **My lovely little son.** " 

Kelly watched in amusement as the Devil practically melted into a puddle of tenderness in front of her. She couldn't see his Grace or her son's, but she felt something continually brushing together, all tingly and soft, inside her. Kelly smiled, sticking another spoonful of dopiaza in her mouth. They were adorable. 

 

Kelly insisted that Lucifer let her go grocery shopping for herself, despite his offers to do it. He reluctantly conceded, but only after she agreed to let him come along. It was dangerous for her and his son. Many supernatural creatures would be vying to either kidnap or kill him as soon as he was born. Some of the more persistent ones would try to kill Kelly now so as to prevent him from ever being born. Lucifer would not allow that to happen on his watch. 

"Can you grab me that almond milk from the top shelf, Luci?" Kelly asked, pointing to a blue carton on the topmost section of the fridge. Lucifer nodded and easily grabbed it. He set it in the cart beside the eggs. 

"Alright. Almost done. We just need some baguettes and Parmesan cheese. How about you go get the baguettes, and I get the cheese?" Lucifer looked around the store. Seeing no immediate threats, he shook his head yes. Kelly smiled at him and walked over to the dairy section. 

Lucifer had just located a stack of the French bread when he heard a loud crash. He instinctively phased over to Kelly who was holding out her hand in front of her, hazel eyes wide and swathed in gold. Lucifer looked in the direction of her gaze and snarled, mighty wings unfurling behind his back. The lesser angel held his blade defiantly in front of himself, eyes glowing blue. Lucifer wrapped a set of wings around the mother of his child, protectively guiding her close to him. He raised his hands and pointed a finger at the angel who dared to attempt to harm what was his. 

" **Mine!** " he growled, eyes flashing red with power. 

" **Step aside, Lucifer! After I remove the abomination, I will come for you!** " Lucifer's lips curled mockingly. 

" **Will you now?** "

" **You have grown weak and complacent. Arrogant!** " 

" **Is it not a _sin_ to kill a child?** " 

" **It is an abomination! Hell spawn!** " the angel spat. 

" **And you call me a monster. You despicable, hateful creature,** " Lucifer said, voice low and dangerous. 

Lucifer placed a gentle hand over Kelly's eyes and snapped his fingers. The angel instantly exploded into a spray of blood and viscera, painting the walls and shelves with gore. He waved a hand, and what was left of the angel's vessel disintegrated. Lucifer wrapped the rest of his wings around Kelly and phased out of the market, landing back in the house. 


	3. Rats and Plots

"'Kay. So let me just get this straight," Dean said, halting his pacing momentarily to lean his body against the table. "We beat the Brits. We kick their psycho tea swilling *sses. And instead of popping champagne and hitting Vegas, we get Lucifer." 

"And you're sure it's him?" Mary asked. 

"Yeah," Sam replied, tapping the enlarged photo. "That's his old vessel." 

"How is that possible?" she asked, brows furrowing. 

"Crowley, I guess," Sam said. 

"And now, he's dead." 

"No, that's what Hes said, but I don't believe it. Crowley's a friggin' cockroach. I'll believe it when I see the body and burn it," Dean said. 

Sam sighed and stood up, taking his tablet with him. 

"Look, whatever it's gonna be, it's gonna be big. And bad," he said. 

"You're right," a distinctly Scottish accent said. The Winchesters turned and saw Crowley sitting on the end of the table, hands clasped in front of him. "Hello, boys." 

He was answered with punch to the face, and he fell out of his chair to the floor. Dean pressed a demon knife to his throat and glared down at him. 

"Did you do it? Did you let Lucifer out?" Dean growled. 

"I didn't let-" Crowley choked on his breath when the hunter pressed hard against his throat with the blade. "Moose! A little help here!" 

"Dean! Wait," Sam commanded. 

"Seriously?" Mary and Dean said. Sam sighed, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. 

"Just don't kill him. He worked the Cage spell with Rowena. Maybe he can help us." Crowley nodded, attempting to look as innocent as possible. 

"And what if he can't?" Mary asked. 

"Well, then we kill him," Sam answered.

Crowley's smile slid off his face. Dean was still glaring, but he took the knife away from the demon's throat. Crowley coughed and pushed himself to his feet. 

"Cage spell? I thought you had Mother for that." 

"Rowena's dead," Dean said bluntly. 

"Really?" Crowley said, clearly not believing him. 

"Yeah, really. Lucifer," Sam said. Crowley's face became closed off for a moment. 

"Funny, I thought I'd always be the one to kill her." 

"Crowley. Why did you do it? Save Lucifer?" Sam prodded. 

"I wanted to win. I perverted Mother's spell, put Lucifer in a vessel of my own making because I wanted to win." The Winchesters just stared at him. "You know how many people have made a play for my throne over the years? Lucifer, Abaddon, blah, blah, blah, blah! Too d*mn many. I thought if I put the Devil on a leash, my own personal nuke, no one would ever dare challenge me again." Crowley sighed. 

"Yeah, that worked out," Dean said, voice dripping sarcastic acid. 

"All ended with me narrowly escaping death hiding in a rat," Crowley said, crossing his arms. The hunters' faces morphed in disbelief. 

"Wait... in an actual rat?" Mary asked. 

"It wasn't that bad," Crowley answered with shrug. "Gave me time to think. You know, I've been focused so long on keeping my job. Never realized... I hate it. All those whining demons, the endless moans of d*mned souls, and the _paperwork!_  I mean, who wants that?" 

"You," Sam said. Crowley sighed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. 

"Maybe once." 

"So, why are you here?" Sam asked. 

"Well, whenever there's a world ending crisis at hand, I know where to place my bets. You. You big, beautiful, lumbering piles of flannel." Sam glanced down at his red flannel shirt. "So, if you'll forgive my transgression, I'll make it worth your while." 

"Which means?" Dean prompted. 

"Well, after we put Lucifer back in his Cage, together, I'll seal the gates of Hell. You'll never see another demon again. Apart from yours truly." 

"You would do that?" Mary said, raising her eyebrows slightly. 

"Why not? They stabbed me in the back. I'll happily stab them in the front, the sides, and right up their little black eyed *sses. So..." He looked around the room, gazing intently into each hunter's face. "We have a deal?" 

 

Lucifer smoothed his hands over Kelly's swelling stomach, rubbing gently. The Nephilim glowed in response, reaching out with his soul-grace. Kelly's eyes were closed as she tried to fall asleep. They had found out that she could sleep better if they calmed the boy down first. He responded well to Lucifer, instantly calming with a gentle touch of his Grace or a few loving words. 

Kelly let out a muffled giggle, hand flying to her mouth. Lucifer tilted his head at her. 

"Jack likes that!" she laughed. 

"Jack?" 

"That's his name. Jack." Lucifer smiled. 

"It suits him. Our little Jack." He continued his gentle rubbing. 

"Sing for us?" Kelly prompted. Lucifer's lips turned upwards at the edges. 

"Of course." He took a deep breath. 

_"We could hide away in daylight_  
_We go undercover, wait out the sun_  
_Got a secret side in plain sight_  
_Where the streets are empty, that’s where we run_

_Everyday people do everyday things but I_  
_Can't be one of them_  
_I know you hear me now, we are a different kind_  
_We can do anything_

_We could be heroes_  
_We could be heroes, me and you_  
_We could be heroes_  
_We could be heroes, me and you_  
_We could be_

_Anybody’s got the power_  
_They don't see it cause they don't understand_  
_Spin around and round for hours_  
_You and me, we got the world in our hands_

_Everyday people do everyday things but I_  
_Can't be one of them_  
_I know you hear me now, we are a different kind_  
_We can do anything_

_We could be heroes_  
_We could be heroes, me and you_  
_We could be heroes_  
_We could be heroes, me and you_  
_We could be_

_We could be heroes_  
_We could be heroes_  
_Me and you..._  
_We could be_

_All we're looking for is love and a little light_  
_Love and a little light_  
_(We could be)_  
_All we're looking for is love and a little light_  
_Love and a little light_

_We could be heroes_  
_We could be heroes_  
_Me and you..._  
_We could be"_

"Oh," Lucifer said, looking down at his child's mother. She was fast asleep and even the little tyke in her belly was out like a light. He smiled and tucked the blanket around her. Lucifer went to go sit on the chair beside the bed, resuming his sentry like position for the night. 


	4. A Nephilim's Birth

"Castiel? What are you doing here?" Kelly asked, dropping her book in shock. She darted her gaze to the back yard where Lucifer had gone to hang up the clothes to dry. Should she scream? He would probably hear it. She felt a thrum of her baby's power travel up her body in preparation of a possible threat. 

"Kelly, I must speak with you about the Nephilim," Castiel said in a gruff monotone. Kelly laid a hand on her belly. 

"His name is Jack," she said. Castiel wasn't phased by her tone of voice. 

"Yes, we must speak about Jack." 

"You shouldn't be here," Kelly said. 

"What will happen to Jack after you pass on? Where will he go?" Castiel asked. 

"I made plans for that already," Kelly replied. Castiel stepped forward, and the baby's soul-grace bled into her eyes, painting them gold. 

"It is unwise to leave him in the care of humans, Kelly." 

"I said, I had it handled. Please, leave." 

"Kelly, this is of utmost importance," Castiel insisted. Kelly felt a contraction hit her out of nowhere like a sack of bricks, knocking the breath out of her. She curled into herself, gasping. "Kelly?" She panted and drew in a deep breath into her lungs.

"LUCIFER!" 

Immediately, the temperature in the room plummeted, and a soft flutter of wings announced the arrival of her guardian angel. Lucifer flung Castiel out of the way, throwing him into the wall, with a single flick of his hand. He appeared by her side as she grunted in pain again, clutching at her belly. Lucifer knelt beside her on the bed, wrapping his wings and arms around her protectively. The feeling of his ice cold Grace surrounding her dulled the pain just a bit to make it more bearable, but it was still enough to make her clench her teeth and squeeze his hand hard enough to bruise if he had been human. 

"It's okay, I've got you," Lucifer murmured. He cradled her gently, snapping her pants and underwear away to make way for the birth. When Castiel sat up, Lucifer threw a book at his head, and he fell back to floor. 

"Just breathe. It'll be okay," the fallen angel said softly. 

"AAGH!" Kelly cried, her body tense and shaking with exertion. Everything hurt _so much_. Lucifer's low temperature contrasted soothingly against the blazing heat of pain ripping through her. She thrashed in his arms, panting and sobbing. "Lucifer!" 

"I'm right here, Kelly," he said. Kelly felt the baby push through her dilated cervix, almost all the way out now. She looked up at him with wet hazel eyes. 

"Tell Jack I love him," she said. 

"I will." 

"I'm scared," Kelly whispered. 

Before Lucifer could respond, a movement caught her eye. Castiel had a a gash on his hand, and he looked directly at her as he pressed it to the dripping sigil. Both angels disappeared in a burst of white light. Lucifer's parting scream sent chills down her spine. She didn't have time to feel anything, however, because the child slipped out of her fully at last. The last thing she ever saw was golden light filling her vision. 

 

Jack's eyes blinked open, and he stared up at the ceiling. He sat up, pulling his knees to his bare chest and wrapping his arms around them. A fringe of pale brown hair hung over his glowing golden eyes as he took in the dark room around himself. The kind icy presence of his Father was strangely absent, and his mother's soul had departed to Heaven already. He was alone. Jack wanted his Father. Where was his Father? 

He took a deep breath and walked on wobbly newborn legs to the door, getting the hang of the motion by the time he reached the door. Each step left a burning foot mark singed into the tiled floor, his new powers close to the surface of his skin, prepared to leap into action. Jack wrapped his slender fingers around the knob of the door and turned it. The door opened with a click, swinging out to reveal the equally dark hallway. 

Jack stepped forward slowly and spotted the stairs. He vaguely remembered his Father carrying Mother up the stairs when she fell asleep on the couch. Maybe his Father was waiting for him down there. His ears pricked up at the sound of footsteps, heavier than he had been hearing earlier during his fetal state. Whoever the person was - a _man_ , his mind supplied - he was wearing boots. Jack didn't even blink as the Grace boiling beneath his skin made the floor around his feet catch fire, little flames licking up around his ankles. 

He squinted in the dim light, trying to discern who it was that was walking inside his mother's house. The man was very tall, towering over his small figure of 5'6'', easily over six and half feet tall. He had long thick brown hair that fell past his shoulders and hazel eyes. The man looked nervous.

"Jack?" the man called. Jack paused, leveling a stare at him. The man noticed his eyes and became afraid for some reason. He wondered why that was. "I-It's Jack right?" 

"Where is my Father?" Jack asked, ignoring his question. Of course his name was Jack. He already knew that. The man stiffened inexplicably, hazel eyes widening just the slightest amount. 

"L-Lucifer? I don't know..." 

The man was lying. Jack could tell. This sent a jolt of... irritation? - yes, that's what that was - spiraling through his body. The floor beneath his feet was starting to melt instead of just singe. 

"Where is my Father?" Jack asked again. The man pursed his lips, his eyes frozen on Jack's. He could feel the rising tension in the room. 

"Sam!" a voice called. Another man. The man - whose name must have been Sam for he answered - didn't even turn his head. 

"In here, Dean," Sam said. 

"Sam, have you-" Dean cut himself off abruptly as he noticed the Nephilim standing in the middle of the hallway. The green eyed man's face hardened, and he fired off a shot from his gun at Jack. 

"Dean, no!" Sam cried. 

Jack felt the bullet whiz past him and collide with the wall behind him. He _screamed_ , shattering all the windows and sending the strange men flying into the wall hard enough to crumble plaster. Golden light swirled around him, sinking back into his skin as his fear abated, and the pair of somewhat small wings behind him wrapped around himself. Jack felt a prickle of blood run down his thigh and realized that the bullet must have grazed him. 

He turned and walked down the stairs, leaving the men on the floor, looking a bit dazed. He was going to find his Father. 


	5. Police Station

 

Jack looked down himself, his arm frozen and bent at the elbow as he surveyed the clothes the policeman had given him from the 'Lost and Found.' The policeman was standing beside his partner, a woman, with his arms crossed over his chest. The young man behind the desk watched him with amused blue eyes. 

"So weird," Jack heard the policeman say. The female officer shot him a look. 

"Why don't you head out on patrol, Earl?" she suggested. "And by the way, there's no such thing as weird. Everyone's normal in their own way." 

"Right. Sorry, sheriff," Earl said, leaving the room. 

The young man watched him intently as he shuffled his feet, trying to comfortable in the strange footwear. Why did people wear this? It felt odd and heavy on his feet compared to the free feeling of bare feet. The young man's expression was still amused. He tapped his pencil against the desk. 

"Yeah. Totally normal," he said to the sheriff. The sheriff gave him a reproachful look. 

"Hope those are alright. I just pulled some stuff from the 'Lost and Found,'" she said to Jack. "Everything fit? Here." The sheriff handed him a plastic water bottle. He turned it in his hands, marveling at the way the thin material of the bottle crinkled under his touch. "Take a seat. Sit." 

Jack sat down in the chair beside the desk. The young man was still watching him. Jack wondered if that was a normal thing people did. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

"Okay, let's start with the basics," the sheriff began. "What's your name?" When Jack didn't answer, she frowned. "What's your name?" she repeated a bit more forcefully. 

"Jack," he replied.

"Okay. Jack," she said, scribbling the name down on the notepad in her hands. "Jack what?" Jack stared at her blankly. "What's your last name?" He didn't even blink, confusion causing him to be completely still. "Okay, where are your parents, Jack? Your mother and father?" 

"My mother... she's in Heaven. My Father... was supposed to be here, but he's not. I'm trying to find him. I have to find him," Jack said with a small frown. He met the woman's eyes head on. 

"Sure, we can do that," the sheriff said, nodding. "What's his phone number?" 

Jack blinked. Phone... number? He didn't know that. He hadn't even met his Father yet. Was this a trick question? 

"What about his address? Or an email?" She snapped on a pair of latex gloves while he stared at her blankly. "Is there anything you do remember, Jack?" 

_Flames, hot and bright, painful, not at all like his, swallowing the raven haired female whole. Screams, loud and agonized, ring in his ears._

"I remember when the bad woman burned. I remember the universe screamed," Jack said. The sheriff's expression was odd. The young man tilted his head to her and cleared his throat, making a swirling motion with his index finger by his head. Jack just stared at them calmly. 

"Okay. I'm gonna take your thumb print and run it through the system," she said, taking his hand and guiding him over to the table. The sheriff smeared a black power over his thumb and pressed the digit into a piece of paper. "Okay, just like that. Good. We get a match, and we'll get you home. Stay right here, and I'll be right back." 

Jack watched her exit the room and turned his attention to his now black thumb. He brought it to his mouth and cautiously stuck out his tongue. It was somewhat bitter, and he decided that it didn't taste very good. Jack licked it all off anyway to get his thumb clean. The young man dropped his pencil, and Jack's eyes snapped to him. 

"Dude, how high are you?" 

Jack frowned and sat back down in the chair beside the desk. 

"I don't know what that means," Jack said. 

"Oh, it means wasted, lit, chonged, blitzed, blasted, blazed, baked... no, nothing?" The young man leaned forward, his blue eyes sparking with intensity. "Look, I'm not judging you. I'm jealous. What are you on?" 

Jack's frown deepened. 

"I'm... on a chair... on the floor... on planet Earth," he stated. For some reason, the young man's eyebrows seemed to rise with each word he said. Jack didn't understand why. He had answered his question. However odd that question was. 

The young man laughed suddenly, startling Jack. He leaned back in his chair and wiped a tear from his eye. 

"Dude, you are so stoned." 

"No, I'm not... stoned. I'm..." Jack trailed off, brows furrowing in concentration as he tried to find the word to use. 

"What?" the young man asked softly. 

"I'm... hungry." Yes, that was it. "I'm hungry," he said firmly, nodding his head. The young man smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. Jack blinked at him. 

"Come on. I know a place we can get you a snack." 

 

Candy was amazing! It was so, so good. His mother never really ate sweet things because it gave her a stomach ache, so he had never even had a memory of what it tasted like. Jack happily peeled off another wrapper and sank his teeth into the rich chocolate that made his taste buds sing. The young man ate beside him on the floor, shooting him amused glances every so often. 

"Clark?" he heard the sheriff call from behind him. 

"Hey, Mom," Clark said. 

"Uh, are you okay?" she asked. 

"Yeah, Jack was just, uh, hungry. I don't think he's ever had candy before." Jack turned to her. 

"I like it. I like nougat," Jack said, smiling with chocolate in his mouth. Clark chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Yeah, he really does," Clark affirmed. 

"Did you see - there's something wrong with the lights," the sheriff said. 

"Huh. That's crazy. Hey, show her the thing," Clark murmured the last part to Jack. 

Jack grinned and hopped to his feet, stuffing the wrapper in his pant pocket. He walked over to the vending machine and extended his hand. He tapped the palm to the side beside the glass, and the lights of the machine flickered as bars of candy fell off the racks and into the little slot at the bottom. Jack giggled, reaching down and grabbing another handful of candy. Clark smiled at him. 

"Yeah, he's magic," Clark said. The sheriff frowned at Jack as he munched on the Hershey bar. 

"Jack, how did you do that?" she asked. Jack shook his head, giggling. 

"I don't know," he replied. 

Clark shrugged when his mom looked over at him and shot Jack a reassuring look. Jack almost smiled back, but his head was suddenly ringing with a high pitched squeal, thousands of voices pouring into his mind. The candy bars fell to the floor from his loose fingers. He gasped in pain, falling against the vending machine for support. His eyes bled gold as he panted. Clark and the sheriff stepped toward him, concern in their expressions. 

"Jack? Are you okay?" the sheriff asked. Jack blinked hard, struggling to focus. 

"I-I don't - I -" Jack pushed past them, stumbling as he walked. "I have to-" 

The sheriff's hand landed on his shoulder. 

"Jack, just wait-" 

Fear flooded him. The Nephilim flung out his hand, and a golden light burst from it, slamming into the woman. She flew back into the vending machine, shattering the glass on impact. Clark ran to her. 

"Mom!" 

Jack groaned as another high pitched squeal rang. He stumbled out the door into the hall, clutching at his head. He forced his trembling legs to carry him, and he leaned against the wall for support. Tiny gasps and moans left his mouth, the pain in his head nearly unbearable. Lights exploded above him, sparks flying. He finally reached the main room where he knew the door to the outside was near, and he fell to his knees, grasping at the desk with his left hand. 

Dean's figure blurred in front of him, and his eyes glowed brighter. He grit his teeth and growled. Dean took a step back. Jack had just made it to his feet when a sharp pain appeared in his lower back. He screamed, falling flat on his face as electricity coursed through his body. His mind felt fuzzy and sluggish, like it was filled with sludge. 

"Good shot," he heard Dean say to Sam. 

Jack felt a large hand gently touch his neck, feeling for a pulse. He remained utterly still, fear replacing the pain in his mind. 

"Don't move-" The sheriff's voice cut off abruptly. "What's going on here?" 

Jack's eyes slid shut. 


	6. Jack's Cell

Jack waited until only Sam was left in the cell they had carried him into before he leapt up, crouching on the cot, snarling. His eyes flared gold. Sam jumped back, hitting the wall in his surprise. He held up his hands in a placating manner. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, easy, easy. It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you." 

"You already hurt me," Jack growled, baring his teeth. 

"Yes. I did. I'm sorry," Sam said. "I was just trying to slow you down. You were, um... are you alright?" Jack blinked. 

"I-I - I don't... I was scared," Jack said. The gold in Jack's eyes faded until the irises were a vibrant hazel color. Sam stared at him incredulously. "And when I get scared, things happen. I can't stop them." 

"Why were you scared?" Sam asked. 

"Because of the voices. They were so loud, so angry," Jack explained. 

"Do you hear them right now?" Sam asked. Jack looked at the wall before he returned his gaze to the man. 

"No." Jack stood up from the cot and stepped forward. Sam jerked back, hitting the wall again. When Jack just stood there, the older man relaxed, smiling nervously. 

"Good," he said, his voice strained. 

Jack hopped onto the cot in front of him and crossed his legs beneath himself. He leaned forward slightly. 

"I'm sorry," he said. His voice came out sounding very young. 

"What?" Sam blurted. 

"Will you tell them I'm sorry?" Jack asked politely. 

"Yeah..." Sam said, nodding jerkily. 

Jack stared patiently at the man, a bit confused as to why he looked so nervous. It was as if he expected Jack to explode or something. Weird. Sam cleared his throat. 

"Um, Jack, how are you - how are we talking right now? I mean, you're not even a day old. How do you know English?" Jack smiled. 

"My mother," he said fondly. "She taught me." 

"So, you talked to her?" Sam asked. 

"I was her." Sam's throat convulsed as he swallowed. 

"Right. Um, what about your powers? Did she teach you those?" 

Jack frowned and walked over to the wall. He laid a hand on the sturdy brick, pressing his forehead to the cool surface. It was nowhere as soothing as his Father. His heart panged. 

"I don't know why these things happen. It's like I'm me, but... not me." This is why he needed his Father. His Father knew. He turned to Sam, pushing off the wall. 

"I need to find my Father," Jack said. "He will protect me." Sam sighed, rubbing at his forehead. 

"Jack, you got to listen to me. That's not really what Lucifer does," Sam said. Jack glared at him, eyes flashing gold. Sam gulped, his hand jerking in a nervous twitch. 

"He is my Father. He loves me." 

"Jack. I don't think that Lucifer can love anyone," Sam insisted. The lone light bulb in the room exploded, sending glass falling to the floor. Sam gasped and looked at Jack with wide eyes. 

"Do not say that about my Father," he said lowly. "I need my Father!" His voice rose at the end. 

"Tha-that's not a great idea, Jack. It really isn't." Sam ran a hand through his hair, tugging harshly at the ends. 

"Where is he?" Jack asked softly. His eyes were hazel again. 

"He - he's, um, I'm not sure." 

Jack frowned, and he sat down on the cot again, cross legged. 

"May I leave, then? I need to find him."  

"No, you need to stay here," Sam said. 

"But why? My Father is out there. I need to find him." 

"Please, Jack. Stay here." 

Sam stood up and closed the door behind him as he left before Jack had a chance to reply. Jack stared at the door with a frown. 

 

A lady with short dark hair walked up to the bars of his cell and peered inside. He eyed her suspiciously. She made a 'come here' gesture with her hand, smiling gently. Hazel eyes still narrowed, he walked up to the bars, standing a few feet away from them. 

"Hi, Jack. My name is Jazrael. I am your aunt." 

"Father didn't mention you," Jack said. Jazrael's smile grew colder. Her vessel's dark eyes were like shards of obsidian. 

"He wouldn't have. I am one of your younger aunts," she explained. "Will you come with me, Jack?" 

"No. My Father wouldn't like that," Jack responded. Her expression was downright frosty now and not in the nice way his Father was. 

"Well, that's too bad, Jack." Jazrael raised a silver blade, bringing it chest high. "I was hoping that you would choose to live." 

"Hey, Feathers! Step away from the kid," Dean growled, rounding the corner. He had a rather impressive black eye and blood trickling from his mouth. 

"If we can't have him, no one can!" Jazrael snarled.

She slipped her arm through the bars and rammed the blade into his chest up to the hilt. Jack gasped softly, stumbling away from her reach. He did feel pain, but it wasn't unbearable. Sam came up behind her and shoved another one of those silver blades into her back. Jazrael died in a burst of white Grace, her scream echoing in his ears. Her body fell to the floor with a dull thud. Jack looked down at the handle sticking out of his chest. He gripped it tightly and slid it out. The blade was coated in red fluid, _his blood_ , drip, drip, dripping to the floor with little splatting sounds. 

"Jack?" came Sam's trembling voice. He sounded concerned. Jack looked up from the bloody blade. 

"I'm fine," Jack said. There was no cut, no wound at all. Not even a little pink mark. Just a tear in his shirt. 

"You sure?" Dean prodded brusquely. 

"...Yes," Jack replied. 

Sam took the blade from his hand, and he pulled Dean out of the room. They began to talk in hushed tones. 

"I thought that would have hurt him at least," Dean said. 

"I guess Lucifer's Archangel parts came through more than we realized," Sam whispered. 

"Well, we can't just leave the kid here. What should we do with him?" 

"Let's take him back to the Bunker. Mom can watch him while we go look for Cas. Cas'll know what to do," Sam said. Jack heard Dean sigh. 

"Fine. But one toe out of line-" Dean made a slashing noise. 

Jack leaned his head back against the wall. He felt so alone. 


	7. Demons Like Yo-Yo's

_I'm a rolling thunder, a pouring rain_  
_I'm comin' on like a hurricane_  
_My lightning's flashing across the sky_

 _You're only young but you're gonna die_  
_I won't take no prisoners, won't spare no lives_  
_Nobody's putting up a fight_  
_I got my bell, I'm gonna take you to hell_  
_I'm gonna get you, Satan get you_

 _Hell's bells_  
_Yeah, hell's bells_  
_You got me ringing hell's bells_  
_My temperature's high, hell's bells_

By the time that the chorus of 'Hell's Bells' was on for the fifth time, Jack was nearly quivering with nerves. He ran his thumb along the latch of the seat belt buckle, considering. Sam was looking out the window. Dean was practically strangling the steering wheel, his tight grip on the worn leather causing his knuckles to go white. The Nephilim bit his lip and considered. 

He wondered how far he could make it if he just threw open the door and jumped out. If he just sprinted down the highway. 

Probably not that far. 

Jack bit back a sigh and forced his hand to stay still. It wouldn't do to make the men angry. He still wasn't certain how much he could trust them not to hurt him again. Jack watched impassively as the car pulled into a driveway of a building - probably the Bunker they had mentioned. 

"Get out, kid," Dean said. 

"Okay," Jack responded, unbuckling his seat belt and swinging his legs to get out of the vehicle. 

When he walked forward a few steps, a hand landed on his shoulder. Jack flicked his eyes up to see Dean. 

"Behave, you hear me?" 

"Yes, I hear you," Jack said. 

Dean steered him none too gently to the door and pushed him through the doorway. Jack walked in with wide eyes. He could feel magic - sigils, he thought they were called - covering the whole building. It made the Grace in his soul ache, feeling somewhat constricted. He resisted the urge to just let go and let it sizzle out of his skin. They seemed to be afraid when he did that, and he didn't want to make them angry. 

A middle aged blonde woman with short hair was sitting at the table in the center of the room, and she looked up from a stack of scattered papers. Her pale blue eyes widened at the sight of them. A man barely taller than him wearing a black suit was playing with a bright red plastic yo-yo. Jack felt that something was different about him. He couldn't quite remember the word though...

"Who's that?" the woman asked. 

"This is Jack," Sam said quickly before Dean could get a word in. Dean's mouth snapped shut, and he sent a scowl his brother's way. 

"He's a Nephilim," Dean grumbled. 

"Oh," the woman said, eyebrows raised. 

"Hello," Jack greeted. He smiled brightly at them. The man was staring at him weirdly. It made his skin crawl. 

"Mom, can you watch him for us while we go find Cas? The idiot used a banishing sigil," Dean said. 

"Sure, yeah," the woman responded. Dean looked pointedly at suited man.

"You'd better not cause any trouble either," he warned. 

"No need to worry about me, Squirrel," the man shot back with a grin. 

"Right," Dean said in a tone that sounded more like he meant the opposite. 

"Dean," Sam prodded. 

"Off we go, then." 

The loud slam of a door signaled their leaving. 

Jack looked at them blankly. The woman walked up to him. The man stayed where he was, but he was still watching. 

"Hi, Jack. My name is Mary. That's Crowley," she said, pointing at the man. The man gave a little wave. 

"Hello," Jack reiterated. 

"Do you want something to eat, sweetie?" Mary asked. 

"...Yes?" Jack said uncertainly. 

"Alright. Stay right here. I'll go whip up some sandwiches for you, 'kay?" 

She left without waiting for him to reply. Jack blinked after her. He looked over at Crowley. His attention was riveted on the yo-yo in his hand. 

"What is that?" Jack asked. Crowley smiled. 

"It's a toy consisting of a pair of joined discs with a deep groove between them in which string is attached and wound, which can be spun alternately downward and upward by its weight and momentum as the string unwinds and rewinds. Otherwise known as a yo-yo." 

"What does it do?" Jack asked, tilting his head to the side. 

"Oh, you just play with it. Keeps your hands busy. That kind of thing," Crowley explained. 

"Can I try?" Jack asked. 

"Why not? Go ahead, Jackie," Crowley said, holding it out to him. 

"Why did you add -ie to my name?" Jack asked, brows furrowing in confusion. 

"It's a nickname. People give them to... friends." 

"But we aren't friends." 

 

Lucifer groaned, rubbing at his head. Those banishing sigils were a pain. He spat out a mouthful of dirt, swiping at his tongue to get the taste off. Ugh. When he got his hands on that uppity little seraph, he was going to tear him apart! How dare he do that? Lucifer was this close to witnessing his child's birth, but no, Castiel just had to ruin it. That angered him more than anything else. 

Now his son was Dad knows where, with Dad knows who. He could be injured for all he knew! Kidnapped, tortured...

Lucifer made an unhappy sound, and he blew up a nearby tree to release some other the anger building inside his body. It made splinters of wood rain down around him. He forced himself to take a deep breath to calm himself. 

Okay, focus. 

Lucifer closed his eyes and concentrated on the bond he shared with his son. It flared in his mind like the brightest of beacons, and he grinned with relief. Good, the kid wasn't currently hurt. But what was he doing in Kansas? 


	8. Daddy's Home

Lucifer landed gracefully on the dewy grass in front of the Bunker, folding his mighty wings behind himself in a single fluid motion. He took a moment to glare at the building because - _Winchesters_ , ugh. He strode down the driveway right up to the door. Lucifer placed his palm against the metal wall, humming softly in Enochian. The angel warding shattered under his icy Grace, and he grinned with satisfaction. Perfect. He phased inside the 'impenetrable' building with a silent flutter of wings. Lucifer had his connection wide open, so he felt the soft light of his son before he saw him. 

A young teenager, who looked roughly fourteen or fifteen, sat with his legs crossed beneath him on top of the small bed. His eyes were closed, pale lashes nearly touching the apples of his cheeks. His light brown hair was messy and fell over his forehead in tangled waves. A pair of tawny wings speckled with black and white were tucked against his back, the long flight feathers almost reaching the covers of the bed. 

His eyes flew open the moment Lucifer stepped into the locked room, the irises blazing gold. He gasped, a tiny breathless sound of surprise. The warm soul-grace of his child reached out instinctively as the boy stretched out his small hands to him. Lucifer smiled, gentle and loving, and brushed his Grace against the child's. He walked forward and reached down for Jack, who happily wrapped his arms around his Father's neck. His Grace twined with his son's, enveloping him with his adoring embrace. 

Lucifer lifted Jack easily into his arms, using his angelic strength to carry his adolescent body like it was weightless. Jack was staring up into his face with an awed expression on his own. His heart swelled with love. 

"Father," Jack breathed, relief and joy in his tone. 

"Hi, Jack," Lucifer murmured softly. Jack smiled, those adorable little dimples of his creasing. 

"I missed you." 

"As did I, Little One. It was not purposeful on my part, however. I really did try," Lucifer said, a bit of sadness leaking through. Jack's eyes faded to a familiar hazel, just like his mother's. He nuzzled his head under Lucifer's chin. 

"It's okay, Father. You're here now, and that's all that matters," Jack assured him. 

Lucifer smiled sadly, pressing a kiss to the top of his baby boy's head. 

"Thank you." 

"You'll stay?" Jack's voice sounded small and genuinely scared. Lucifer tightened his arms around Jack. 

"Of course I will. I will never ever leave you," he promised. 

 

Dean and Sam arrived back at the Bunker later that night, the clock's hand just five minutes from midnight. Sam tried to get Dean to let Jack keep sleeping, they didn't need to wake him up yet, but Dean wanted to get Castiel's opinion on what to do right away. When they pushed open the door, surprise flashed over their faces. Lucifer was sitting on the lone bed, cradling a sleeping Jack against his chest, smiling down at him with pure adoration in his eyes. Without looking up from his child, he spoke. 

"If you touch him, I will kill you and everyone you love, slow and painful." 

Castiel looked between the two, his face drawn in confusion and concern. 

"Lucifer-" 

"I swear to Dad, Cassie, if you wake up my son from his _first_ night of sleep, I will rip you apart molecule by molecule," he growled.

The Morningstar cooed softly when Jack's eyes fluttered, still half asleep. He kept murmuring softly in Enochian until the boy was back into his state of rest. 

Sam found it more than a bit unsettling how much love Lucifer was directing at Jack. It was just... wrong somehow, seeing that expression on the Devil's face. 

Dean was just furious that Lucifer had dared to come into their home. It was supposed to be safe, and they were supposed to be able to leave for a few hours without coming back to something like a narcissistic Archangel. His gun was aimed at Lucifer's head. Lucifer raised his left hand and twitched his fingers in a little circle. 

The gun in his hand turned into a plastic toy one. 

Dean glared at the fallen angel, who ignored him. Lucifer's eyes were only for his child, his perfect little boy. 

 

Jack blinked up at his Father, a comforting coolness washing over him as Lucifer smiled. A calloused hand carded through his hair, smoothing out some of the tangles and setting his messy hair into a neater position. 

"Good morning, Jack. How did you sleep?" 

"I slept... good." Jack grinned blearily. "Sleeping is weird." 

"It is, isn't it?" Lucifer agreed. 

"Did you sleep good, too, Father?" Jack asked. 

"Oh, I don't sleep," Lucifer said. "But my night was good nonetheless. I got to meet and hold my baby boy. What isn't good about that?" 

Jack grinned but then, frowned as a pang of emptiness rolled through his stomach. It made a funny growling noise. Lucifer bopped him on the nose gently with his index finger. 

"Looks like you're hungry. Do you want to try pancakes?" 

Jack blinked up at him. 

"What are pancakes, Father?" 

"Let me show you." 

Lucifer lifted Jack up from the bed, holding him on a hip with one arm. Jack was carried into the kitchen and set on the granite counter top. Lucifer found a glass mixing bowl and sifted together the flour, baking powder, salt and sugar. He made a well in the center and poured in the milk, egg and melted butter. He mixed it until all the lumps were gone.

He heated a lightly oiled frying pan over medium high heat on the stove. Lucifer then poured batter into the pan. Jack watched with interest as the gooey batter began to bubble and sizzle, and after a little while, his Father flipped it over to reveal a golden brown side. Jack's mouth was watering by the time that the first pancake was finished cooking, which Lucifer seemed to notice because he grinned at him. 

Lucifer placed a plate of pancakes on the counter beside him and poured a helping of syrup onto them. He used a knife to cut the pancakes into little squares before he loaded up a fork and lifted it to his son's mouth. Jack opened obediently. He made a happy noise as the sweet food met his taste buds. Lucifer smiled. 

"Want some more, kiddo?" he asked. Jack nodded. 

Another forkful was brought to his mouth, and Jack hummed happily. His Father continued to feed him until the plate of food was empty. Then, Lucifer handed him a glass of milk. Jack looked at the white liquid before bringing the glass to his lips. His hazel eyes fluttered shut as he drank deeply. 

He set it on the plate when he was done. Lucifer rinsed off the dishes and placed them in the dish drainer. 

"There we go. So... did you like them?" 

"Yes. I really did," Jack said. "Thank you." 

"No problem. Now, how about we get you some clothes that actually fit?" 

Jack looked down at his outfit. He looked at his Father with confusion. 

"You're adorable. Come on, I'll see what I can scrounge up." 


	9. Chapter 9

People bustled about around the two of them, couples holding hands or a hefty bundle of bags, and children racing to see who could get into the mall first. It was a good thing the Lucifer didn't need to drive, he thought when his eyes scanned the parking lot briefly. It was packed, filled with an assortment of colorful cars and even a few motorcycles. He almost felt bad that as winter approached, the number of the latter would dwindle down to zero along with the various bikes that lined nearby racks. Lucifer liked motorcycles. 

Quickly scanning the area in front of them, Lucifer picked out the nearest clothing store. His son's hand clasped firmly in his own, he set off toward it. Jack was looking at everything with wide, curious eyes, awed by all the sights and sounds around them. The fallen angel grabbed a shopping cart. Lucifer found the underwear section and gently indicated for Jack to go on. After a moment, Jack picked up a pair of boxers that were all patterned. He tilted his head at them, a flicker of a smile on his face. Lucifer smiled at him. 

"You can have those, too, Jack," Lucifer told him. "Anything you want, just throw it in the cart, it's fine. You need a whole wardrobe."

Slowly, the Nephilim dropped the pack of boxers into the shopping cart, giving his Father a small cautious smile. After that, he turned his attention to the socks, picking up several different patterned socks, ranging from ones that have simple stripes to ones that have little intricate bicycles on them. 

"You're gonna need some thick ones, too, for when you have to wear boots," Lucifer remarked. He grabbed a pair of plain boot socks from the rack and tossed it into the cart with a little hmm. His son was a Nephilim, and while he was certain that Jack couldn't get any human sicknesses, he still didn't want him to be cold. 

"Oh, I forgot all about shoes," Jack said. 

"Yeah, you kinda need some good shoes, kiddo. Don't worry. How about we look at some after lunch?" Lucifer suggested. 

"Yes, okay," Jack agreed. He smiled. 

"Okay," Lucifer said. He pointed over at the pajamas, a bit surprised by how easily this was going so far. "How about pajamas?" 

"What are pajamas?" Jack asked. He turned his head to look at his father, blinking. It should be illegal for a being to be as adorable as his son. His heart just melted. The fallen angel smiled softly at him. 

"Pajamas are just clothes that you go to sleep in," Lucifer explained. 

"I can't just wear this?" Jack asked. 

"Well, you could. But pajamas are made for sleeping, and they're just more comfortable," Lucifer replied. 

"Oh," Jack said. "Okay." 

They both shuffled over to the pajama section. Jack instantly picked up a dark grey cotton ensemble that Lucifer thought he would like. It had a cartoon version of a duck on the front and little duck feet stamped all over the patterned bottoms. Jack chose some more contemporary pajamas bottoms then, some plain grey ones, some that are blue and have stripes on. He carefully piled them up in the shopping, already looking happy with his purchases. He beamed up at Lucifer. 

"Do you want some, too, Father?" Jack asked. He held up a pair of cupcake pajamas to him. 

"I don't sleep, remember?" Lucifer reminded him. 

"But you can wear them when you stay with me in bed," Jack said. 

"Oh, alright," Lucifer relented. He grabbed the pajamas from Jack's hand and put them in the cart. 

 

The fallen angel grinned when he noticed his son staring at a baked goods shop, practically drooling over something in the display. He had to admit, the smell of fresh baked goods was enticing. Maybe he would get something for the both of them. There was no rush as long as Jack was happy. Lucifer prodded his arm, chuckling when he jumped and turned to look at him. There was a childlike sparkle in his hazel eyes. Jack definitely seemed like he wanted something.

"You want anything from there? I can buy you something if you want," Lucifer offered. Jack nodded enthusiastically, bobbing his head. "Just don't get anything too big. I don't want to spoil your appetite." 

They both arrived at the place the Nephilim had been eyeing, Lucifer ordering a hot chocolate for himself and a glazed cinnamon roll for his son. Jack only seemed to get more excited when he received it warm and soft. After Lucifer had paid for it, he picked the seating that was as far away from other customers as possible. It ended up being perfect since the seat had a fake fireplace next to it and a window overlooking a large, beautiful and forested park. The fireplace wasn't anything like the real thing, but it added a nice ambiance for sure. 

Lucifer couldn't help but watch with the occasional sip of his warm beverage while Jack munched happily on his roll. It looked like it was practically melting in his mouth with each bite, icing smearing on his lips every now and then, only for him to quickly lick it off. He seemed content, and the food in his hands only fueled his happiness even further. He finished the last of his beverage, and he smiled as Jack shoved the last of the cinnamon roll into his mouth, making a happy sound. 

"You're so cute," Lucifer commented. Jack just smiled shyly. 

 

"Hello," the employee hanging near the entrance greeted them as soon as they entered.

He looked young, although it wasn’t anything to do with any lingering baby fat on his face. It was just the way that he carried himself, in that familiar college-student-summer-job manner. The feeling of being caught between wanting to do their best so they didn't lose their only source of income to buy ramen and headphones with, but at the same time hating your job with a burning passion. Because honestly, what university student secretly had a deep, abiding love for working retail? A person could love the product and still hate their job. It was just how retail went.

"Hey there," Lucifer replied brightly because, of course, that was what he was going to do. 

"How can I help you today?" the kid asked him with a polite smile.  

"My son needs some new shoes. He just keeps on growing. You know how it is," Lucifer said. 

"Ah, of course. What kind will you be needing?" the employee asked. 

"Just some standard shoes for everyday wear," Lucifer told him. 

"Um, sure. Come with me. I'll show you where everything is," the employee said. 


End file.
